#may fave

She breathed in deep. The cold air that burned her lungs was the only thing she could feel. Her bare hands felt nothing in the cold winter air; her raw face, her torn clothes. Nothing. It had been a long war. Now…Now it was over and she should have felt… Something. Her eyes glazed over, staring at the war torn city below the tower in which she stood. Her short black hair was pushed into her face by the wind and stuck to her lips. Hand-prints on the banister, red and brown with drying blood, registered in her mind. Those were her handprints. That was not her blood. It was the blood of enemies. The blood of friends. The blood of her true love. Somewhere below lay the bodies of every person she loved. People to whom she would have given her life. People she would never see again. “M'Lady?” The sudden voice made her jump. She had been so lost in a stupor that she had not noticed a servant enter her tower. Slowly, she turned and let her eyes fall upon the small girl. “Your majesty, you are injured. Let me attend to you?” Her voice found her. “No, there are other who are more direly injured, attend to them,” “Not to be… argumentitive, your majesty, but you are the queen. I cannot let you bleed out because you wish to wallow,” Said the small girl, in a voice like a mother. The queen was shocked. Nobody had ever spoken to her in such a manner, especially not a handmaid. But something told her that the girl was right. Finally, after several moments contemplation, she sat in front of the girl. The moment she sat, tears began to streak her face. The feeling she had lost rushed back into her heart with the force of a river. She felt the pain of her wounds. She felt the loss of her friends. She felt the blood on her skin. The queen began to sob. “Your majesty… People… Are going to leave you… They run away, they die,” Her voice was steady and strong. “We cannot control that, it is… A fact of life. Mourn for your losses, but do not let your grief keep you from rebuilding your country. Your people need you.” And she was correct, the girl with the blonde hair and crooked nose who was no older than herself. She was the queen, she must lead her country. It was her duty.